


bad boys with tainted hearts

by lunasenzanotte



Series: Stefanick Tweets [2]
Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Asphyxiation, Consensual Kink, Gay Sex, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mild Painplay, Oral Sex, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sexual Roleplay, Shameless Smut, Smut, Some Plot, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:55:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25204339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunasenzanotte/pseuds/lunasenzanotte
Summary: Nick has a fantasy he didn't know he had. Surprisingly, Stefanos is down.
Relationships: Nick Kyrgios/Stefanos Tsitsipas
Series: Stefanick Tweets [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837708
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	bad boys with tainted hearts

**Author's Note:**

> By popular demand (just kidding), another Stef/Nick smut. This is slowly turning into a series. Happens after [](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22744354), but of course you don't have to read that one. 
> 
> Set after Nick's outburst at the Mexican Open. Vaguely inspired by this (fake) tweet:
> 
> [](https://ibb.co/jk9sb3C)  
> 

Nick is just about to open another bottle of beer when the doorbell rings. He ignores it. He’s not in the mood for being asked about his sins and the end of the world approaching, nor offered a new set of pots and pans.

The doorbell stops ringing after a while, and Nick contentedly moves on the couch with his beer. This time, it’s his phone that rings, Stefanos’ number shining on the screen. Nick groans and answers it.

“What?”

“Open the door, you idiot, I know you’re home!” Stefanos says.

Nick blinks, but then goes to the door and opens it. Stefanos is the last person he would expect at his door. Although…

“You?”

“Last time you helped me with my demons,” Stefanos says. “Maybe it’s time I help you with yours.”

Nick makes a face. “I have no demons, they’re scared of me.”

“After you publicly stated you didn’t give a fuck about anything and anyone… yeah, probably,” Stefanos chuckles. “Seriously, Nick? Everyone thought you finally learned how to behave.”

Nick plops onto the sofa. “My wrist fucking hurts!” he spits. “That’s it, you see? Everyone wants me to behave, and when I actually do something good, they don’t even notice, they just wait for another opportunity to thrash me. Fuck them!”

Stefanos approaches him carefully. “Look, I know you’re pissed, and still I walked in here willingly. I might be digging my own grave, but I’m here.”

Nick looks at him. “So what? You want a medal for that?”

Stefanos sighs exasperatedly. “What I’m trying to say is… whatever helps you. I’m here to pay you back.” He narrows his eyes. “You said your wrist hurt, that’s inconvenient.”

Nick rolls his eyes. “Your teenage jokes, Tsitsipas,” he sighs. “So you’re here because you assumed I needed sex to stop being miserable, is that what you’re trying to say?”

Stefanos chuckles. “Well, or because last time, you said you didn’t nearly show me enough.”

Nick smirks. “Don’t tell me you’ve mustered enough courage to let me blindfold you.”

It very obviously takes away from Stefanos’ bravado. Nick lets him stew for a little while, just because he thinks that Stefanos needs to learn some lessons.

“I take it as a no,” he smirks then. “Don’t worry, it’s not the only thing in my drawer of kinky stuff.”

“You have a drawer of kinky stuff?” Stefanos raises his brows.

“I might have one, yeah,” Nick says. “Interested?”

Stefanos laughs nervously. “Well… with you, one never knows what they can find,” he says. “So I’m a bit worried.”

Nick smirks and gets up. “No worries, I’ll go easy on you.”

He opens the wardrobe and the built-in drawer in it, that was most probably designed to hold ties or accessories, not Nick’s pile of filth, but Nick doesn’t give a damn.

He thinks for a moment. He’s already figured out that what Stefanos is fearing the most isn’t Nick, but himself. He enjoyed their last time way more than he thought he would, and it probably left quite a mess in his head. The funny thing about such mess is that it can’t be sorted through without adding more to it.

Nick picks an item and throws it at Stefanos over his shoulder. Stefanos startles, caught completely off guard. Then he looks at the handcuffs and raises his brows. “I didn’t know you had a cop fantasy.”

“I didn’t,” Nick growls and takes them back. “But now that you mentioned it, putting you in prison sounds very tempting.”

Stefanos shakes his head exasperatedly. “I don’t know why I thought this would be a good idea,” he says and turns away.

Nick makes a quick step and grabs him by the nape of his neck, slamming him face first into the wall. Stefanos yelps, and that moment of surprise gives Nick just enough time to close the handcuffs around his wrists.

“Are you mad?” Stefanos asks incredulously.

“You’re under arrest,” Nick growls in his ear.

Stefanos scoffs and thrashes in his hold. “Let go of me!” he barks.

“You have the right to remain silent,” Nick informs him. “And you fucking should.”

Stefanos makes a slightly panicked sound. Just when Nick thinks he’s crossed the line, and is ready to unlock the handcuffs and apologize, Stef turns his head to the side and looks at him.

“Maybe we could make a deal, _officer_?” he says.

Nick’s mouth goes dry. Truth is that Stefanos, in the loose sweatshirt and with messy hair, really looks like a kid that’s in trouble and is trying to pay his way out of it. It’s more than convincing, and he doesn’t quite know what to do with it.

“A deal?” Nick smirks, slipping back into the role. “What could I possibly need from someone like you? The bag of shit you have in your pocket?”

“It’s not about what you _need_ , officer,” Stefanos grins. “It’s about what you _want_.”

Nick’s hand flies up almost on instinct, and he grabs Stef by the hair. Stefanos winces slightly, but the sparkle doesn’t disappear from his eyes at all.

“Get on your fucking knees,” Nick growls.

Stef drops on his knees with some effort, trying to keep his balance with the hands cuffed behind his back. Then he looks up at Nick, and damn, Nick has never seen anyone look so sinfully innocent.

“So… what are you willing to do for me?” Nick asks.

The handcuffs clink quietly as Stefanos tries to settle into a more comfortable position. “Anything… sir.”

Nick chuckles. “Anything, eh? Good. You can start with sucking my dick.”

Stef closes his eyes briefly and lets out a low displeased sound, but doesn’t protest otherwise. When he opens them again, there is the excited sparkle again, and it grows brighter when Nick reaches for his zipper.

“Well?” Nick raises his brows. “I don’t have all day.”

Nick doesn’t know how Stefanos does it, but he can make it look like he doesn’t really want to do it, while also making it clear that there’s nothing he wants more. Maybe he really does have some acting talent.

“At least take them off!” he protests, shuffling forward on his knees and nearly losing balance.

Nick clacks his tongue disapprovingly. “Open up.”

Stefanos makes another annoyed sound, but then he parts his lips and takes Nick in his mouth.

“Gotta do it hands-free, poor baby,” Nick teases him, stroking Stefanos’ cheek mockingly. “Don’t tell me it’s your first time.”

Stefanos jerks his head back and gasps for air. “Fuck you,” he chokes out.

“No, baby, I’m going to fuck _you_ ,” Nick says, guiding him back on his cock, because he’s got a taste and now he craves more.

And damn, Stef’s good. Good in a raw, inexperienced, but eager way. Like a rough diamond, and Nick isn’t entirely sure that he would want to cut and polish it.

“Look at me,” he commands and slaps Stefanos in the face, not putting enough strength in it to cause damage, just enough to sting and bring his mind back from wherever it has wandered.

When Stefanos does look up, Nick almost regrets it. He’s quite sure that this image will be forever burned in his retinas, and _oh_ , the things it does to him. He resists the urge to just break the role and fuck Stefanos right then and there. He has to tell himself that if he lets things escalate, the final reward will be much better.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans and grabs a handful of Stef’s hair again. “Get up.”

Stefanos tries to scramble to his feet, but nearly kills himself, and if Nick hadn’t let go of his hair in time, he would probably be holding a part of it his hand now. He grabs Stefanos by the hoodie instead, and drags him over to the table in the middle of the room.

“Aren’t we good now?” Stef protests. “It was just for my own use, I swear!”

Nick resists the urge to hit him for real. He can imagine that Stef would be the kind of guy to push a cop to the edge and then yell “police brutality”.

“Fifty grams? Do I look stupid to you?” he growls and pushes him down, hard.

“Fuck!” Stefanos yelps when his chest collides with the table. “N-no, sir, you don’t. I just…”

“I thought you didn’t want to go to jail.”

“I don’t,” Stef whines, sounding like a spoiled little kid.

Nick unlocks the handcuffs and yanks Stefanos’ hoodie off, together with the T-shirt underneath, throwing it aside blindly. Then he cuffs Stef’s left hand to the leg of the table, and he takes firm hold of his right arm, twisting it behind his back.

“Well,” he growls in his ear. “Then shut your pretty mouth, be a good boy, and take it.”

Judging from the reaction of Stef’s body, he is definitely the auditory kind of person. Nick’s words sometimes do more to him than his actions. He slides a hand down Stef’s back, tracing his spine and feeling the muscles tense from the uncomfortable position. He brushes lightly over his tailbone because he likes to ruffle his feathers. The curse Stefanos mutters under his breath only confirms it.

Nick chuckles and pulls off the rest of Stefanos’ clothes, kicking his legs apart.

“But after this, you’ll let me go,” Stefanos says, turning his head to the side and glancing at Nick.

“I told you to shut up,” Nick says and smacks him on the side. As he expected, Stefanos shudders, but it’s rather pleasure than fear or pain. “I decide when I let you go. If ever.”

“Fucking bastard!” Stefanos barks at him.

The cue for him to go harder literally couldn’t be clearer, and he feels almost ashamed of himself when he gives in so quickly. He should clearly have more self control and show Stefanos who is the boss here, but fuck it.

He smacks Stefanos a couple more times, just for good measure, just a little treat, but other than that, he touches him as little as possible. It feels strange, this detachment, calculating every move and every word, but at the same time, it keeps him in the moment.

When he buries himself inside him, Stefanos lets out a stream of expletives no street kid would have to be ashamed of. He arches his back, probably to relieve the pressure on his chest, and unwittingly pushes his body further into Nick’s. Nick lets out a low growl, and pulls him even closer, earning another desperate sound from him. Stefanos’ body is radiating heat and his scent reminds Nick of an early morning on the beach, sea salt, wet sand and just a hint of campfire smoke.

The wooden pendant hanging from the black strap around Stefanos’ neck is rhythmically hitting the table, and the sound is annoying the hell out of Nick. He grabs it, and then on a sudden whim, he twists the strap around his hand to make it tight.

The choked, helpless sound Stef makes almost pushes Nick over the edge. Stefanos tries to move his left arm on instinct, and the handcuffs catch on the edge of the table with a loud clank. Nick grips his right arm tighter just in case.

“Calm down,” Nick growls. “You know that you like it.”

It feels strange, taking without asking and still being absolutely sure that he’s doing the right thing. He lazily untwists the strap. Stefanos takes a shuddering breath. It’s almost absurd that he trusts Nick enough to let him do this, but not enough to do other, much less dangerous things to him. But well, Stefanos’ mind works in mysterious ways sometimes.

Still holding the pendant, now rather loosely, he picks up his pace. Stefanos is mewling and sobbing under him, nails digging in the wood of the table and his own palm. Nick lets go of his right arm.

“You know what to do with that one,” he growls. “I’m not here to do you any service.”

Stefanos lets out an exasperated chuckle, falling out of his role for a moment, but neither of them cares at this point. Nick feels the shudders running through Stef’s body, only seconds earlier than he reaches his climax as well.

“So,” he says, and clears his throat because it’s suddenly strangely hoarse. “You learned your lesson?”

“Yes, sir,” Stefanos breathes out.

“So if I let you go now, I won’t find you hanging around another corner selling that shit?”

Stefanos just shakes his head, eyes drifting closed. Nick unlocks the handcuffs and then picks his shirt off the ground, sacrificing it to wipe them both down hastily.

Stef pushes himself up slowly. He makes a step and then sways, the quick change of the blood flow getting the best of him.

“Whoa,” Nick chuckles and steadies him. “Not so fast.”

Stefanos laughs, high-pitched and completely unprompted, like he’s really high on something.

“I… fuck. I need a moment.”

Nick doesn’t need a moment, but he _wants_ a moment. He pushes Stefanos down on the sofa and lies down next to him, trapping him between the backrest and his body.

“I think if we ever drink and then need to drive, you’re behind the wheel, because you’ll get away with it in case we get pulled over,” Nick says.

Stefanos narrows his eyes. “I don’t think all cops are perverts like you.”

He rubs his wrists that are red and bruised. He will probably have some explaining to do.

“I would still be the worst drug dealer in the world,” he mumbles and tucks his head into Nick’s chest.

“Not like I could ever be a cop,” Nick chuckles. “That’s what fantasies are for.”

“I’m kinda scared to find out what other fantasies you have,” Stef sighs. “I hope they don’t involve murder.”

“I certainly do have fantasies that involve murder, but they are not sexual fantasies, so don’t worry,” Nick grins. “Or maybe…”

He takes hold of Stefanos’ necklace again. Stefanos quickly grabs his wrist.

“Don’t…”

“Don’t do what?” Nick asks and smirks.

“Fuck,” Stefanos breathes out, lets his hand slide down and closes his eyes. “Do it again.”

“You’re fucked up,” Nick chuckles.

Both of them are.


End file.
